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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27907837">King With No Crown</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_eccentric/pseuds/hopeless_eccentric'>hopeless_eccentric</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>(Free! That's right! Free!) Penumbra Commissions [26]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Penumbra Podcast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Betrayal, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Episode: s03e21 Juno Steel and What Lies Beyond, Hurt No Comfort, Introspection, Junoverse | Juno Steel Universe, Other, Peter Nureyev Needs a Hug, Spoilers for What Lies Beyond, for about thirty seconds but it's in there, peter betrayev, technically pre-ep</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:33:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,641</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27907837</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_eccentric/pseuds/hopeless_eccentric</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There were two things Nureyev wanted more than anything in this world, and of course, neither of them were remotely feasible. </p><p>First, if he could only open his mouth and let that horrible secret sitting upon his chest become a burden for the both of them to share, perhaps his detective’s sharp mind might find an angle of escape he had never considered. Perhaps he might not hate him for the plan that ate away at the back of his mind at all hours. </p><p>Second, he wanted nothing more than to stay.</p><p>(Free!) commission for a lovely anon on tumblr!!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>(Free! That's right! Free!) Penumbra Commissions [26]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921492</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>87</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>King With No Crown</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hey all so this one's a tad bit angsty but regardless do enjoy</p><p>Content warnings for blood/gore mention, violence/murder mention, some discussion of juno's mysterious blood shenanigans, betrayal</p><p>title from Judas and also my personal opinion that nureyev no longer uses royal aliases because he cant afford it</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In thirty days, Peter Nureyev’s debtors were going to kill him. In twenty five, he intended to betray the crew that had unwittingly insisted on becoming his family.</p><p>With such little time left before an end to one thing or another, Nureyev only wished his mind would let him get a little sleep before he lost the ability to do so altogether. However, with the digital clock blinking its sticky red glow from Juno’s side of the bed and his partner nestled and almost snoring into his chest, Nureyev heaved out a sigh, shut his eyes, and knew it wouldn’t do a damn thing to get him closer to the rest that evaded him.</p><p>He was a fool to think simple distractions would aid him in such a predicament. That didn’t stop him from running a hand up and down the line of Juno’s back, pausing occasionally to press into knots with a pair of fingers when he felt them along his path. Juno didn’t wake, merely letting out a comfortable huff and nestling his head into the lapel of Nureyev’s sleep shirt. </p><p>There were two things he wanted more than anything in this world, and of course, neither of them were remotely feasible. </p><p>First, if he could only open his mouth and let that horrible secret sitting upon his chest become a burden for the both of them to share, perhaps his detective’s sharp mind might find an angle of escape he had never considered. Perhaps he might not hate him for the plan that ate away at the back of his mind at all hours. </p><p>Second, he wanted nothing more than to stay.</p><p>Nureyev wasn’t a doctor, though from what huffed-out summaries he had heard of Juno’s appointments, he doubted Vespa’s experience in the medical field was doing much to help her so far as Juno’s predicament. He knew it didn’t seem malicious, yet, and that he showed no negative symptoms, yet, and that, as far as any of them knew, he wasn’t dying.</p><p>Peter hadn’t ever considered himself a pessimist, but with the faint, bloody glow of the digital clock sticking tacky to every surface in the room, all he could seem to remember was a Martian tomb and Juno’s face, limp and bloodied and held in his hands.</p><p>He hadn’t realized the arm resting around Juno’s shoulders had gone far too tight when lost in the throes of memory until Juno shifted uncomfortably. Nureyev prepared to remove himself altogether until Juno, half-asleep or entirely so, mumbled something incoherent and dragged him closer once again.</p><p>Nureyev sighed. He nodded. He let his arms fall around the lady whose heart he was mere weeks from breaking and held him tight.</p><p>He could only wonder if this was how Juno felt in that hotel room years ago, and when a wave of something cold and bitter rose in his chest, he could only try to file the whole mess of a thought away so he might be able to live with himself after the fact.</p><p>Betrayal was one of those concepts he had been far too acquainted with once. After the gravity of his first attempt at the matter, any other backstabbing felt minor. A half-broken heart after one rendezvous was nothing in comparison to Mag’s neck under his knife, especially if he left a note and signed it with a blood red kiss. </p><p>The man Juno had met as Rex Glass had been the kind of individual who didn’t mind the idea of getting close to his marks just for an excuse to slip a hand into a pocket and take what he wanted. There was no harm in such a temporary attachment, after all. He would merely walk away a little richer and they would walk away breathless and the whole event would be over. Nobody would be haunted by the shadow of a nameless thief for longer than they allowed themselves, and Nureyev wouldn’t need to worry about the moral streak that dragged himself into this mess in the first place.</p><p>That Peter Nureyev had been woven from smoke and night air, left to appear and dissipate and sink his fingers into the hearts of his marks at will. He wouldn’t have shared a bed with someone, let alone with the same someone for such a long time. He wouldn’t have felt an ache in his chest whenever that someone pressed a little closer or heaved out a sleepy sigh. He wouldn’t have felt the need to keep a hand running up and down that someone’s back, as if a kind and tender touch could do away with a world’s worth of unkindness.</p><p>That Peter Nureyev had betrayed Juno Steel once before.</p><p>It was strange to think the same lips pressed haphazardly into his chest had been the other half of a whiskey-stained kiss in a dingy apartment a thousand years ago. Juno still had the same coat Nureyev had clutched to while his other hand went digging for a key, and Peter still had the same cologne that had haunted Juno’s apartment and shirt collar for weeks after his departure. Even with those items still saved, neither of them ever seemed to wear them anymore.</p><p>The betrayal had been one Nureyev was well acquainted with. Forgiveness sat on both of their lips, while Peter made a point of leaving a note and having the last word. He expressed a hope of meeting again and almost intended to make good on his word. He was not attracted to every mark he left breathless and down one particular object or sum of money, and there was something dangerous about Juno Steel that made his pulse quicken in a thrilling way.</p><p>The memory wasn’t unpleasant and the pair of them still found ways to joke about that impersonal betrayal. It didn’t make his stomach turn. It didn’t drive away sleep.</p><p>Nureyev was almost jealous of the man who had called himself Rex Glass, for he could let such betrayals sink into the air like smoke, a distant, almost pleasant taste on the tongue with no ramifications. He didn’t feel a great twisting in his chest when pressing that Judas kiss to the detective’s lips and planning to vanish from his life forever.</p><p>The man who shared his bed with Juno Steel had meant to be asleep what felt like hours ago. Some invisible hand seemed to have torn its way into his intestines, twisting and knotting whatever organs it found while they squeezed and squirmed in protest, unable to put up any kind of defense against that cruel force that had made him weak enough to love another.</p><p>Love, he supposed, was one of the greatest and worst things that could happen to a person. </p><p>A kind of healing warmth had made a nest of the spot beneath his breastbone, and yet, he suspected that the burning behind his eyes and in his throat was born from that same heat. It only spiked, near-painfully when Juno stirred, raising his head with a sudden yawn and a stretch that accidentally knocked into Nureyev’s chin.</p><p>“Shit,” Juno groaned, flopping back towards the bed. “Sorry about your face, Nureyev.”</p><p>“You’ve injured me beyond healing, you brute,” Nureyev complained. “I’ll never smile again.”</p><p>“Shut up,” Juno laughed. </p><p>“You know you love me,” Nureyev huffed, though his tone of impatience fled entirely when Juno pressed a soft kiss to the bolt of his jaw, just where his hand had accidentally shoved.</p><p>“Something like that,” Juno snorted. “Is that better?”</p><p>“Much,” Nureyev chuckled. “What are you doing awake, dear?”</p><p>“You’re keeping me up,” he murmured into Nureyev’s chest. “All the gears in your head are too loud.”</p><p>“You know me too well for your own good,” Nureyev returned with a shake of his head.</p><p>“Something you wanna get off of your chest?”</p><p>“You, if you keep trying to be my therapist at midnight,” Peter pretended to grumble, though Juno took it as an excuse to drag Nureyev into an even tighter embrace, his laugh stifled somewhere near his shoulder.</p><p>“You’re never getting rid of me,” Juno snorted.</p><p>“I’m afraid you’ve fallen right into my trap, dear detective,” Nureyev chuckled. “That was exactly my devious plan all along.”</p><p>“Whatever shall I do,” Juno yawned flatly.</p><p>“Get some sleep, I’m hoping,” Peter smiled.</p><p>Juno huffed, though his feigned ire was short-lived. As much of a fight as he seemed to be putting up against sleep, there was only so much Juno could do when he was warm and relaxed and held close by another. He tried to fight his exhaustion off with a couple extra yawns, but he soon went limp and relaxed atop Nureyev’s chest.</p><p>Peter sighed and let that blissful smile fall from his face. Somewhere in the aching hunk of lead within his chest, he couldn’t help a wave of relief that Juno had been nearly asleep through the entire conversation. Nureyev’s performance had certainly not been his most believable parody of domestic felicity.</p><p>With Juno gradually relaxing in his arms, Nureyev let his hand trail back to its former work, up and down Juno’s back in a gentle line. Despite this, he could not bring his eyes to tarry from the clock across the room, counting down the minutes before he potentially fated himself to never hold Juno Steel, who had made the mistake of loving him back, again.</p><p>He pressed a kiss to the top of Juno’s head, as if that tiny gesture would do away with the matter in his blood or the sword hanging by a string above Nureyev’s head.</p><p>Across the room, the sticky red light blinked as the clock struck midnight. </p><p>In twenty nine days, Peter Nureyev’s debtors were going to kill him. In twenty four, he intended to betray the lady who had unwittingly become his lover.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>oopsies</p><p>Thank you all so much for reading!! Make sure to SMASH that kudos button and leave a comment down below or i'll idk betray you or something</p><p>Check me out on tumblr @hopeless-eccentric or on twitter @withane22 !!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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